<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>joyride by t4tterdemalion</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747625">joyride</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/t4tterdemalion/pseuds/t4tterdemalion'>t4tterdemalion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake AH Crew, Female Jack Pattillo, M/M, Messy, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possibly Out of Character, ROAD HEADDDD, barely controlled chaos, done off the center line of a freeway, if it really bothers people I WILL fix it, just tell me, my tenses are fucked up, no beta we die like men, this fic reads like a line of coke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:53:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,876</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/t4tterdemalion/pseuds/t4tterdemalion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fucking, oh my god,” Michael says, full throated and hoarse, and someone laughs and someone else moans.</p><p>(added note as of 10/16/2020: this work was written in around 2017. i have not been active in this fandom for over three years, but hearing today about the predatory actions of Ryan Haywood over the years has broken my heart. as a survivor of sexual abuse and manipulation, my heart goes out to his victims who have been silenced for so long, and my heart goes out to his coworkers and friends who are struggling to understand this. i don't know whether i want to delete this, so i'm leaving it up for now. <br/>i do not condone or defend Haywood's actions in the slightest.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gavin Free/Michael Jones, Gavin Free/Ryan Haywood/Michael Jones/Ray Narvaez Jr./Jack Pattillo/Geoff Ramsey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>joyride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ooooh, well well well well <em>well </em>well well,” Gavin croons, running his hands over the gleaming mirrored gold finish of Michael’s new car, wide smile stained red with wine. “<em>Michael, </em>boi, you’ve bought me a present.”</p><p>Michael smacks his grubby paws away, bites the inside of his cheek to hide his smile as he retorts, “I bought <em>me </em>a present, idiot. Anyone getting you a vehicle of any kind is the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”</p><p>“It’s my favorite colour though, innit?” Gavin’s sharp grin pokes at all the hot places in Michael’s belly, and it’s like he knows it, the way he slips over the hood and runs a palm over the lump of the fob in Michael’s pants pocket. “And I always like it better when you drive, anyway,” he says close and low, fingernails tapping on Michael’s thigh.</p><p>Michael presses him up against the car, smudges the shine with his handprints marking where he corners Gavin there, biting down on the soft space just under his jaw for a long moment, sucking a little until Gavin whines, then triggers the butterfly doors and shoves Gav into the passenger side.</p><p>“Let’s go for a drive, boi,” he grins, vaulting over Gavin’s floppy self into the driver’s seat, settling into the deep black leather interior like a hand into a glove. The car purrs like a cat under his hands, then roars like a lion as Michael guns it before the doors have even finished closing, Gavin bouncing in his seat, laughing as he catches himself on the dash while Michael whips them around onto the streets, 3 in the morning and the highways are long and winding and empty.</p><p>Gavin fiddles with the buttons, figuring out how to open the sunroof before they’ve even gone three blocks, sticking his head up and out like a dog, screeching joy into the wind. They’re pushing 80 already, turning onto the highway, and Gavin, still hanging out the sunroof, shouts something down into the car Michael can’t hear over the rushing speed. There’s sirens in the distance, but they aren’t close enough to be even a little concerning, and then the car shakes a little as three choppers pass over not 100 feet above. Something dark and blurred and tangled falls through the sunroof and lands with a <em>thump </em>and an indignant shout in his passenger seat. Michael swerves a little, looks over.</p><p>Ryan looks back at him from where he’s sprawled half on top of a groaning Gavin. “Nice car,” he says, smooth and deep, yanking off his mask and tossing it into the backseat.</p><p>“Did you just jump out of that chopper into my car through the fucking sunroof?”</p><p>“<em>You’re bloody squishing me, you great wanker, get OFF,” </em>Gavin says quite loudly, and Ryan smirks, extracting Gavin by the scruff and plopping him down on his lap, wrapping an arm around Gavin’s waist and promptly mouthing at his pulse, starting what looks to be a very promising hickey.</p><p>Michael hears the sirens circle back around towards them in the distance, hears Gavin’s complaints trail off into a moan to his right, fishes his phone out of his pocket and calls Ray.</p><p>“Brownman here for all your shitty needs, how may I assist you today?” Ray says loose and lazy into his ear.</p><p>“Uh,” Michael says, checking his rearview for flashing lights, checking the sky for a police chopper, checking to his right where Ryan has one hand all the way up Gavin’s shirt and the other all the way down his pants, “<em>Jesus Christ.”</em></p><p>“This is He,” Ray quips, “live and in stereo. Got a situation?”</p><p>“We’re on the freeway heading somewhere, I haven’t read signs in a while, Ryan dropped into the car through the roof and now we have cops on our tail and I <em>just </em>bought this fucking car custom, Ray.”</p><p>“Sounds like a fun time,” Ray said, slurring a little, rummaging around for something. “Want me to get there?”</p><p>“Sure, it’s a fucking party, bring your gun, bring the whole crew,” Michael snarked at him, hearing the telltale bubbling of bong water in the background. “I just need someone to help me preserve this really really nice ride that isn’t getting nasty in my passenger side.”</p><p>“Kay,” Ray murmured, “be there in a few. I’ll bring the good drugs.”</p><p>“And some ammo!” Ryan called into the phone, his hand over Gavin’s mouth to muffle the noise, just before the line went dead. Michael checked his mirrors again, saw the black-and-white formation approaching behind them and floored it.</p><p>Fifteen minutes later, Michael could barely fucking keep his eyes on the road, too busy watching Ryan stroke Gavin’s cock torturously slow while Gavin made these begging, wordless sounds that made Michael’s whole body hum with the need to be touching him <em>right the fuck now</em> but he couldn’t, had to keep both hands on the wheel at 10 and 2, Tokyo Drifting across an empty 4 lane highway to avoid random potshots from the entire police force of Los Santos booking it down the road after them.</p><p>They were doing a solid 95 past Mt Chilliad when some fucking hideous beater came sailing off a cliff and smashed down next to them, missing two doors and it’s hood, Jack and Geoff holding on for dear life in the backseat, Ray leaning against the driver’s side door steering with one hand out the window like life was the easiest thing in the world.</p><p>They pulled up alongside, and Michael rolled down the back window. Geoff tossed Jack in along with a few expensive looking liquor bottles and a ratty old Louis Vuitton duffel bag, then dove through himself, landing in a cursing pile in the backseat. Ray kicked the door open, grabbed two flat cases in one hand, and stepped through the open backseat window like he was stepping out his front door. The beater lost speed and swerved off behind them, and Geoff yanked a remote detonator out of some hidden pocket.</p><p>“Wait for it,” Ray said calmly, squishing himself between them in the back and flipping open the smaller of his two cases.</p><p>“Now,” Jack said under her breath, twisted round to stare out the back window.</p><p>“Wait for it,” Ray repeated, extracting a pastel pink glass bong from the case along with a Bic lighter. The beater skidded closer to the phalanx of cop cars. “Ok, now.”</p><p>Geoff jammed his thumb down on the detonator and the beater blew sky high, taking out at least four cop cars. Ray blew smoke right into Jack’s face. “Perfect.”</p><p>“Ammo?” Ryan asked. Gavin was squirming in his lap, his cock flushed a deep red, Ryan’s thumb moving in maddeningly slow circles just under the head.</p><p>“Better,” Jack grumbled, unzipping the duffel. “Which do you want, the plaid minigun or the rocket launcher?”</p><p>Ryan’s eyes lit up with a familiar, crazy light. “Geoff, take over for me would you? See if you can do something about Michael, he’s been blue-balled for the last 30 minutes.”</p><p>Geoff wormed his way up to the front, and Ryan squeezed out from under Gavin, ignoring his very vocal protests. Taking the rocket launcher from Jack, Ryan settled himself just between the front seats, head and shoulders out the sunroof, facing their pursuers. Geoff was caging Gavin in against the seat, whispering quiet and filthy into his ear, sinking to the floorboard between his legs. Michael swallowed hard and focused on the road, feeling the vibration of the car through his whole body, his dick pressing insistently against his zipper, listening to the wet, obscene noise Geoff made as he swallowed Gavin down.</p><p>“<em>Fuck, Michael,” </em>Gavin breathes right into his ear and Michael almost runs into an overpass. Jack’s hands come around from behind his seat and steady the wheel, and Ray takes his chin and turns Michael’s face to the side enough to shotgun a massive hit into his mouth. Michael’s head is fucking swimming with it, Ray’s tongue against his and Gavin making pretty little noises into his ear, Jack’s deceptively strong arms and pale hands, Geoff’s mouth around Gavin’s dick, and Ryan takes aim above him and blows three squad cars away. Ray lets up and the smoke oozes slow from between their mouths, Michael’s skin buzzing, warm.</p><p>“Ever had road head, Michael?”</p><p>Michael’s head slams back against the headrest and he moans out load when Gavin touches him, pulls his dick out and just takes it all, sloppy and hot and so <em>fucking good. </em>The low vibrations from Ryan firing behind them are almost soothing, steady rumbling explosions and Michael has never felt so totally fucking completed, so surrounded in all the right ways.</p><p>“Fucking, oh my <em>god,” </em>he says, full throated and hoarse, and someone laughs and someone else moans.</p><p>It’s Gavin that tips him over the edge, of course; coming with Michael’s cock still down his throat, every whimper and moan strangled around the weight of Michael’s dick and Michael doubles over, vision whiting out. He almost bangs his head on the steering wheel and has to lean back and breathe for a minute. When he emerges from the fog, he finds Geoff and Gavin, both looking self-satisfied and fucked out, piled on top of each other in the passenger seat, somehow pouring shots regardless of the fact that they’re in a moving car.</p><p>The sirens behind them have stopped, and Ryan’s sitting at ease still looking out the sunroof, Ray slouched down in a cloud of rich smoke. Jack, bless him, is still steering the damn car, his damn beautiful gold-chromed baby, and Michael runs his hands over Jack’s in silent apology before he takes back the wheel, tension spooling out of him easily, just feeling the way the car responds to him smoothly, readily, easily. He gets them off the highway and they’re in Bumfuck, Nowhere so he rolls all the windows down and turns on the radio.</p><p>The Rolling Stones come on as he hits a low hill, and they’re airborne momentarily. Geoff leans forward to turn it up, and they all hear Ryan singing raspy and rich into the outside air. “<em>Just as every cop, is a criminal, and all the sinners saints...”</em></p><p>Geoff joins in, leaning his head out the window and grinning wild up at Ryan, “<em>As heads is tails, just call me Lucifer—</em>”</p><p>“<em>Cause I’m in need of some, restraint,” </em>Ray howls, using his bong as a dummy mic.</p><p>“<em>So if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste,” </em>Jack belts, and Gavin finishes with Ryan, “<em>Use all your well-learned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste.”</em></p><p>“<em>PLEASED TO MEET YOU,” </em>they all shout into the desert, “<em>HOPE YOU GUESSED MYYYYY NAME!”</em></p><p>Gavin, Jack, and Ray collapse into laughter as Geoff whoops and Ryan leans down into the car to kiss Michael with smiling lips. Michael finds himself matching the smile, wide and sharp and stained red with the wine from Gavin’s mouth, the paint from Ryan’s, the ghosts of five different mouths on his, and a little edge of the fire, blood and madness in their wake as they cross the coast in Michael’s golden chariot, singing songs about the Devil.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is old and I barely know if this is in character or if it scans but when I wrote it it was scratching at the inside of my head practically BURSTING to get out and I love writing their chaos it's so bright and hot and lovely and tastes like the air before a thunderstorm</p><p>there's not a lot of people that will ever read this, so if you do.....<br/>tell me something in the comments. leave it here for me to find.<br/>it doesn't have to be about the story.<br/>it just has to be real.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>